


Close Calls and German Bars

by SuperWoman0124



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Chapter two gets kinky, First Time, Flavored Lube, Light Bondage, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Poor Bucky Barnes, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, anal fingering with metal hand, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 02:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWoman0124/pseuds/SuperWoman0124
Summary: After a close call in 1940 and 1943, Bucky ignores his feelings until they find each other again in 2015. Will Steve bug Bucky enough to get him to cop to what's been wrong with him?





	Close Calls and German Bars

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, I freggin' love Stucky. They're my OTP. I have a million plot bunnies and half written adventures, but I've never had the melons to post anything. After some assurance from someone in the fandom, I continued to write this and here it is. Thanks Dogtagsandsmut for beta-ing and convincing me to finally post after this being in my WIP for 3 years.

It started in an apartment in 1940. The day after Sarah Rogers died, Bucky placed a hand on a small man's shoulder, inviting him to stay. Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull his best guy into a tight hug, hold him close and whisper sweet nothings into his non-deaf ear. But Steve wouldn't cry; wouldn't give himself over to his emotions, and if Bucky did as he wanted, Steve would refuse. Bucky knew better than that. But it didn't stop him from wanting it. 

A bottle of whiskey between them, cups abandoned and inhabitations forgotten, they laughed as they recited Sarah's jokes, her quirks, and her ability to be infallible. Sarah had been gone a week, and as they moved into their tiny, cold, and cramped apartment, somehow, it was starting to feel like home. 

"You gotta at least _try_ with the dames, Stevie," Bucky spoke from his place on the couch, staring at Steve's small frame on the floor in front of him. "You gotta get out there. Show 'em who you are. The guy I know." 

Bucky kicked out his foot and nudged Steve's knee, nearly knocking him on his back. He sighed. Somehow this conversation had come up, as it had countless times before, and Steve always repeated the same response: “I just don't think now's the right time, Buck. It’s about an emotional connection." Steve swiped the bottle from Bucky's hand, taking a long pull from the neck. 

"Just admit it." Bucky shook as the beginning of a chuckle formed in his throat. "You don't got style." Bucky stole the bottle back, swigging the last of the amber liquid and feeling the burn straight to his stomach. "I roll 'em in and you turn 'em down. I bet you don't even know how to hit on a dame." 

"Do, too!" Steve's voice raised an octave as he swayed, gathering his strength to get his footing, and pushed himself up off the floor. "I'll- I'll-" Steve pointed a weak finger in Bucky's direction, although which of the three Buckys he was pointing to, Steve wasn't sure. 

"You'll what, Steve?" Bucky chuckled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

"I'll prove it!" Steve stumbled forward, collapsing on the couch beside his friend. 

 

"Ain't no dames here, Stevie." Bucky turned himself so he was facing Steve, trying to focus on his brain's filter, making sure secrets remained secret. 

 

"Don'eed a dame." Steve's words slurred as he leaned forward, clutching his chest. "You're here. S'good enough, right?" 

 

A fire inside of Bucky ignited; his eyes widening and his breath quickened. 

"What're you gonna do, Steve? Try'n pick me up?" Bucky leaned back with a small laugh, resting his shoulders on the armrest and entwining his fingers behind his head. He attempted to calm himself, his heartbeat thundered in his ears. 

 

Steve dropped his palms flat down on the couch and looked at Bucky. Bucky watched his features change as Steve jutted his bottom lip, and as Bucky watched, Steve's eyes glazed over with a heat he couldn't deny. 

 

"What'sa matter? Worried you'll fall 'n love wit' me?" Steve teased, pushing himself up on the couch and over Bucky's legs. Steve's arms shook and his hands were unsure as he crawled up the length of Bucky's body, stopping when his face came into full view. "You'd be surprised at how much I've learned," Steve dipped down and their noses bumped. "-just from watchin' you, Buck." 

 

Their lips were so close, Bucky could feel Steve's breath across his face. Bucky's heart hammered in his chest as he wet his lips. Steve was undeniably sexy like this, small frame encased over his large one; and yet, Bucky couldn't look away from his eyes. God _damn_ those eyes. The ocean blue glimmered like star light, waves crashing on the shore every time Steve used those long lashes to close them. Until he made the mistake of looking at Steve's pursed lips, shiny with spit and plump like a cherry, begging to be kissed red. Steve moved closer, slotting his legs across Bucky's hips to seat himself in Bucky's lap, hoping to whatever god there was, that his best guy didn't feel the obvious twitching erection forming in his slacks. Steve didn't come close to his crotch, instead sliding his hand up to Bucky's cheek and the feeling of his warm palm made Bucky close his eyes, wanting nothing more than for Steve to close the distance between them, buck his hips forward and take him, right here on the couch. 

 

"Buck?" Steve whispered across the skin of Bucky's lips, mint breath filling his nose. 

 

Bucky wanted to lean forward and end his suffering, this song and dance they'd been playing since god knows when. But all he let out was a quiet "Hmm?" 

 

"How'd I do?" Steve let out a light, breathy laugh, before pulling away completely, returning to his spot on the couch. Bucky mourned the loss of warmth radiating from Steve's body immediately, not daring to open his eyes. 

 

When Bucky did open them, he regretted it, seeing Steve in his disheveled state. Steve's hair was wild, pointing up in different directions, and his breathing was off, quicker than it was supposed to be. Bucky went from being hot and bothered one moment, to a worried friend in the next. An asthma attack. _Of course._

 

Bucky leaned forward and checked Steve for any signs of sickness, taking his pulse in his wrist frantically. He observed his chest, contracting and expanding too quickly. 

 

"Stevie?" Bucky felt Steve's forehead and when he decided there was no fever, he palmed Steve's chest and pushed him back down on the couch. "You feelin' okay?" 

 

"Not really." Steve sounded out of breath and suddenly weak, his wheezing picking up. He clutched his chest. 

 

"Breathe with me, buddy," Buck clamored, down on the floor beside Steve so he could watch him breathe. He counted out loud: _"In, 1... 2... 3... out, 1... 2... 3...",_ just like Sarah had taught him. 

 

 _Sarah._

 

What had he been thinking? Sarah had only been gone a week before Bucky had tried to **take advantage** of her son! What the hell was wrong with him? 

 

They counted together for a while and eventually, Steve got his breathing under control until it became almost silent. Steve closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep. Bucky stayed awake, just in case, listening to the raspy breath of his best friend, watching his plump lips part with every ragged breath, hoping for another chance to feel that closeness, no matter how guilty it made him feel. 

 

Bucky struggled with his torn emotions before giving up, instead trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say to him in the morning. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ 

 

Bucky woke up from his spot on the floor, picking his head up and keeping his eyes closed. He could see the warm yellow from behind his eyelids, but he could also feel a faint bump-bump-bump in his brain. Fuckin' hangovers. 

 

When he did open his eyes and turned around to check on his friend, Steve was gone. Unworried, Bucky stretched and groaned as every joint in his body popped from his unfortunate sleeping position. He leveraged his arm on the floor to push himself up to stretch his back, reaching his arms up and barely missing their low ceiling. He padded to the kitchen for a cup of water when he heard a pan tink, and saw Steve, in his long underwear, making breakfast. 

 

"Mornin' Sunshine!" Steve exclaimed loudly, flipping the egg in the pan. Steve had a bright smile on his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet, going to the next pan of frying bacon. "How'd ya sleep?" 

 

Bucky grunted a response, reaching over Steve's head to grab a mug, taking the kettle from the stove to pour some coffee. He sat at the kitchen island and scrubbed a hand down his face, watching the way Steve's bony shoulder blades shifted when he cracked a new egg into the pan. 

 

"So, what the hell happened last night? I woke up on the couch, you on the floor, and my chest hurt. Did I kick your ass or somethin'?" Steve spoke without turning, shuffling from pan to pan, but Bucky could hear the smirk on his lips. 

 

"No, actually we-" Bucky stopped himself from actually telling the truth, and took a sip of coffee as a delay. "No, we didn't fight. Not like you'da won though, punk." 

 

"What did happen, then?" 

 

"You don't remember?" 

 

Steve turned with plate in hand, sliding it over in front of Bucky with a smile. 

 

"Guess I'm’a lightweight." 

 

"You ain't kidding. We drank a fifth 'a whiskey and passed out. You had an asthma attack. Which explains the pain you're in." Bucky returned to his coffee, draining half the cup before picking up his fork. 

 

"I can't help but feel like we had fun though, right?" Steve sat beside Bucky with a plate of his own and half the food, bumping his shoulder into Bucky's as he picked up his fork. 

 

"Yeah, kid. It was fine." Bucky thought back to those sparkling orbs, glistening with the intensity of the moment, sparked by the dare of an almost kiss that was never bound to happen. 

 

If only he knew. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ 

 

The next time it happened, it started in a bar in 1943. The Howling Commandos gathered around full glasses, filling the empty room with their joyous laughter. Steve nursed a beer, even though he couldn't get drunk, just to feel the freedom of being able to do so. Bucky, on the other hand, was 6 pints in, feeling free and loose, his tongue fat in his mouth as he slurred words he hadn't quite meant to come out. 

 

"There's'is one time when Stevie here took on four guys. **Four!** The one had a baseball bat!" Bucky laughed before taking a large gulp of his beer, feeling the fizz tickle his lips. Steve pat him on the back from where he was beside him (which was only slightly painful now that he didn’t know his own strength) and smiled brightly. 

 

"Alright, alright. I think that's enough story telling for tonight, Buck." Steve exclaimed over the "awww"s of the disappointed men, hip checking Bucky out of the seat. They'd rode together and after Steve was assured one of the boys was sober enough to drive, he'd asked Bucky if he'd like to walk the half mile back to camp. 

 

"Sure, Stevie. Anything for my C.O." Bucky fake saluted him, stumbling when he straightened his stance. 

 

Walking out the door proved to be a difficult task, so Steve slung his arm around Bucky's shoulders, proud of the fact that they could do that now. 

 

Bucky stumbled across the pavement, humming a song that Steve knew, but couldn't put the words to. Steve stopped at a traffic light, holding Bucky up and Bucky turned to him suddenly, holding a floppy finger in his face. 

 

"Member that time? When we were kids? Sarah had been on that baking streak right after your birthday. A-and she made those-uh-" Bucky scratched his head. 

 

"Double chocolate chip brownies? The ones she burned to a crisp?" 

 

"Yeah, yeah! That's it." 

 

"And you ate all of them! Even the ones on my plate! Just so I wouldn't have to taste how awful they were." Steve chuckled at the memory, remembering the disgusting face Bucky would make at him every time Sarah would turn her back. 

 

"Sarah had no idea. I couldn’t taste anything for a week." Bucky rolled his eyes and his stance became sullen, a sigh left his lips. "She'da' been proud'a you, ya know?" 

 

Steve let the comment roll down his shoulders. "I know." 

 

"There was also that time, right after we moved in together where we got drunk ‘til 3 am." 

 

"You're gonna have to be more specific with that one, Buck. We did that a lot." 

 

"Forget it, punk. You didn't remember anyways." 

 

"What didn't I remember?" 

 

 _The smell of whiskey and the rough stubble of Bucky's cheeks gliding across his palm, the warmth radiating through their clothes as Steve climbed onto Bucky's lap. The way that Steve stared at his lips like he wanted to kiss them dry._

 

"Nothing much. Forget it." 

 

The camp came into sight and Steve walked a much more sober Bucky back to his private tent and walked him inside, depositing him on the bed. 

 

"See ya in the morning, Barnes." 

 

Steve turned to leave, but Bucky swayed, standing immediately before falling directly back onto the cot. 

 

"W-wait." Bucky called, offering a hand out as to stop him. Bucky told himself to stop, not to say it, _jesus, shut the hell up, Barnes._ His entire belief system, holding himself back so he doesn't get hurt, all stripped with one word. "Stay?" 

 

“'I dunno. I’m tired, Buck and we got a long day tomorrow.” 

 

“Just a little while? It’s hard to sleep, ya know? I’m so used to you, I don’t know what it’s like to sleep without ya.” 

 

Steve turned with a smile, clapping his hands together. "Sure, Buck. Whatever you need." 

 

As if they'd done this a million times, (and they had) they moved on autopilot, Steve turned to strip off his jacket and over shirt, then his field slacks, leaving him in a white tank top and his boxer shorts. Bucky watched as Steve's new muscles moved, shifting under the thin fabric of what little clothes were left. Steve turned, kneeling to the ground and held up his hand, insinuating exactly what he wanted from his friend. 

 

Bucky kicked his boot up and watched as Steve began to untie the string, unlacing his boot with practiced ease. Bucky watched the way the once nimble and fragile fingers worked, now sturdy and assuring. Bucky found himself wondering if those were the same artist's hands that he once knew so well, or if this was a new man all together. Steve tugged on the heel, shaking it loose before pulling it off, sock and all. 

 

Bucky was suddenly fascinated with the way his shoulders moved as his skilled fingers worked on his other boot. He found his thoughts wandering, his fantasies pushed back for all this time as Steve moved closer to him, unzipping the jacket to push it off his shoulders. When Bucky finally got a closer look at Steve's face, he found himself in awe. Steve's sparkling eyes and laugh lines hadn't disappeared, but a strong jaw and healthy cheeks took place, and Bucky wasn't sure who this man was anymore. Was he still that punk from Brooklyn that had Bucky's heart and soul? Bucky wanted to reach out, touch this new man, explore the new things about him. He reached his hand and found himself whispering; "Steve?" 

 

Steve looked up from his focused task of undoing the fly on his zipper and Bucky was then assured, that yes, this was that punk. Underneath the manly muscle and the star spangled facade, this was the same scrappy 93 pound boy he loved. 

 

"Hmm?" Steve hummed, a low, quiet sound in his throat. Bucky pulled his hand back quickly, deciding that now wasn't the right time. War, Steve’s new body, the fame. No, not the right time. Never thought he would have taken a page out of Stevie's book with that one. 

 

"Nothin'." Bucky laid back, now divested of most of his clothing and turned to his side, waiting for Steve to crawl into bed in front of him. Steve walked to the edge of the bed and Bucky felt a dip behind him, Steve's knees touching the mattress as he crawled in behind him instead. 

 

Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's chest, pulling him tight. It was not really cold, but Bucky appreciated the extra warmth. 

 

"G'Night, Buck." Steve snuggled himself in between the warm space of Bucky's shoulders and closed his eyes. 

 

Bucky was wide awake, thoughts of passed nights he'd felt the same warmth spreading across his nerves, back before, when everything wasn't complicated. 

 

Bucky undeniably, ruthlessly and possessively loved this man. 

 

And there was nothing he could do about it. 

 

"Steve?" He found himself calling into the darkness, unable to stop the wonderful smile that from passed his lips every time he spoke his name. 

 

"Yeah?" Steve mumbled quietly. 

 

Bucky thought back for the second time tonight to that night back in their apartment, Steve straddling his lap and whiskey kissed lips so close to his. 

 

"I-" Bucky ran his fingers down his face and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry." 

 

"For what?" Steve pulled his hands away from Bucky's chest and Bucky rolled over to face him. 

 

"For everything. For our lives. The way they turned out." Bucky didn't know what was coming out of his mouth, where this was all coming from. 

 

"Buck, what the hell are you talkin' about?" Steve's features became softer, the creases around his eyes showing as he fronted a tiny smile. 

 

"You-" Buck took a deep breath, knew he had to say this quickly. "You deserve so much better." 

 

"Buck-" Steve laid his hand on Bucky's cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair that had loosened from his gel hold. "Shut up, will ya? You're the best thing that ever happened to me." Steve moved his face closer to Bucky's and Buck could see the crystal glass blue of Steve's glistening eyes. "You were there for me through everything. My mom, thorough every fight, givin' me a place to stay, just- just bein' there for me. Buck, I love you. And we're family. Nothing'll ever change that." Steve leaned down and pressed his lips to Bucky's cheek, lingering only a moment before pulling back and returning to his spot behind Buck. 

 

"Steve?" Bucky blinked back a tear threatening to form. _Don't say it. Don't you do it, James Barnes. Don't you tell that boy you love him, too. He didn't mean it like that. Don't do it. Don't do it._ He continued the mantra in his head. "Thanks." 

 

Bucky stared straight, focusing on the darkness. 

 

He didn't sleep that night. Which was awful because they were going to catch Zola's train in the AM. Bucky had only hoped his silent tears would be gone by then. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~ 

The Winter Soldier didn’t love. He didn’t have family. He was a lone wolf, a killer, a trained assassin with an agenda that wasn’t his own. When the Avengers found the Winter Soldier in 2015 and Bucky started to surface, all he could remember was Steve. The golden blonde hair that shined like a halo in the sunlight. Trembling fingertips gliding smoothly across a pad of paper as he sketched. The laugh line that appeared in the corner of his lips when he smiled. 

 

The Avengers took him in and he felt isolated in their tower. High above Manhattan and businesses as far as he could see. A constant hum of the street below. People ignoring each other in favor of their handheld electronics, buses running red lights, police car sirens every 20 minutes. How his beloved New York had changed. This was an easy town to disappear in, to be ignored, unnoticed, alone. 

 

He could be in a room full of people and still feel alone. Until Steve would walk in. He’d sit down next to Bucky and pretend the last 6 months, let alone 60 years, didn’t happen. That his best guy hasn’t attempted to kill him on multiple occasions. He’d slap a hand on Bucky's back while recalling stories of grief and pranks in their tiny apartment, clumsiness on dance floors and laughter echoed on German bar walls. 

 

“Buck? You alright?” Steve turned to Bucky who had spaced out, the entire attention of the room suddenly on him. 

 

“Yeah, m'fine.” 

 

He wasn’t fine. He was tired. His body was trained, fine tuned into a machine that could withstand a vicious beating, run for 18 miles in -10 degree weather, break a man’s neck with his bare hands. His mind wasn’t prepared for the burden of loving someone so much that you’d take a bullet for them. He was tired. Tired of having his heart broken every time Steve laughed, every time Steve said his name, tired of not being able to tell him the truth of the reason why Bucky still existed. Sometimes he thought he was better off not remembering. 

 

“I’m gonna go lay down.” Bucky sighed and got up, walking to the elevator and Steve excused himself from the conversation and followed. 

 

“You sure you’re okay, pal? You’re lookin' a little rough around the edges.” Steve chuckled to ease the seriousness of the conversation and it took everything in Bucky to not lean forward and kiss the laugh line that appeared. 

 

“’M just tired, that’s all.” 

 

“I don’t think that’s all. You haven’t talked much since you’ve been… well, you and… I think you need to talk to someone. You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve missed a lot and it’s all strange at first, trust me, I know. Just… talk to me.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Bucky was irritated and the last thing he wanted to do was stare at Steve’s perfect face and shy smile any longer than he had to. 

 

“You done?” Bucky nodded toward the elevator. 

 

Steve sighed. “Yeah, I'm good.” 

 

Bucky walked into the elevator and turned to look at Steve. As the doors closed, Steve inserted his hand in and walked into the elevator to corner Bucky between his arms. 

 

“Barnes, I’m telling you right now, that if you don’t talk to someone, you’re gonna implode. I highly doubt I can get anyone in this tower to forgive you twice.” 

 

“I told you, Steve. I’m fine.” Bucky struggled to release himself from Steve’s firm grip. He couldn’t be in such close proximity to him. The one thing he wanted, needed, obsessed over. Steve’s scent filled his nose, a gentle smell of sweat, lavender and leather. Bucky needed to get out. Now. 

 

He peeked at the floors. They were on one and his apartment was on 8. Great. 

 

“But you’re not, Buck!” Steve slammed his hands into the metal of the wall, leaving a dent and leaned ever closer. “Talk. To. Me.” 

 

Bucky shifted his eyesight from one eye to the other, watching his crystal Iris dilate. “I can’t. I really can’t. Can you just… I don’t know, let it go?” 

 

“No!” Steve pushed his palms into Buck's shoulders, pinning him to the wall. “You are NOT self destructing on MY watch! Now, as your friend, your family AND your C.O., I order you to talk to me!” 

 

Apparently, Bucky had seriously underestimated how much Steve had noticed, otherwise he wouldn’t be this angry with him. 

 

“Fine! Fine.” Bucky puffed a breath and clenched his teeth. “but you’re not gonna like it.” 

 

“I don’t have to.” 

 

The elevator doors dinged and the doors opened up to their floor. Steve hot on his heels, Bucky marched to his room and slammed the door shut as soon as Steve passed through. 

 

“The hell’s your problem?” Steve spread his arms out and dropped them to his side as Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. 

 

“The hell’s my problem? No, Steve, what the hell is your problem?!? How can you do this everyday? Be here, with these people who don’t understand, who don’t know what it’s like..” 

 

'to love your best friend.’ Is how he wanted to finish that statement. But what came out was “to be where we’ve been.” 

 

“Bucky, it took some time for me to move on, but… this is a better time. There’s no war, no famine, no job security we have to worry about… we can live out our lives however we want. Not to mention the advancements they’ve made. Gender equality, freedom to be whoever you want, not to mention homosexuals can get married now… that-“ 

 

“They can what?” Bucky perked up and glared at Steve as he sat down beside him. 

 

“Gay people. It’s legal. Welcomed, even.” 

 

“Oh.” The only stunned sound that came out for the lack of any other word that would feed to his brain. 

 

“That doesn’t really affect you, maybe we should focus on the things that do.” 

 

“What if-“ Bucky sighed and ran his metal hand through his unwashed locks of hair. “What if that did affect me?” 

 

“What?” Steve let out a lighthearted chuckle and slapped his best guy on the back. “You’re not gay. You’ve dated more dames than half the guys I know.” 

 

Bucky was silent. He gave Steve a moment to connect the dots and when he received nothing more than a blank stare, he assumed he was going to have to be blatantly honest. 

 

“Rogers, I am..” Bucky sighed again, his brain throbbing in time with his heartbeat which was thundering a mile a minute. “Gay. I’m gay.” Bucky let out a slow breath, relieved to have finally said it, knowing there would be no repercussions, no exile from his beloved home. Steve might hate him, but he could no longer live the lie. 

 

“How do you know? Hell, how did I not know?” Steve dropped his head and suddenly found his fingernails fascinating, picking at them. 

 

“I’ve never told anyone. Never needed to. ‘Cept Sarah.” 

 

“You told my mother but you never told me?” 

 

“I didn’t have to. She just… knew.” 

 

"How? You used to swing more women around my house than anyone else's." 

 

"It was a phase. Something I thought I had to do to prove I was straight. And those dames, they were nice. Pretty, dateable even. But when it came to something deeper, they always suspected I had feelings for someone else and it ended. Your Ma knew it, too. Saw the way I looked at-" Bucky stood up. He couldn't be next to Steve anymore. He wrung his hands together, the mechanical clack of metal against metal became a soothing gesture. 

 

"Looked at what?" 

 

"Not what, who." Bucky was sweating bullets watching his best guy rifle through the skeletons in Bucky's closet, questioning every move like a mission. 

 

"Buck, I'm sorry. Anyone that we knew back then..." Steve stood up and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, tensing his hold. "They'd be gone." 

 

Bucky observed his shoe, watching a tear drop fall from his bottom lash in a silent sob and hit the steel toe. When he looked up to the glorious sight before him, he raised his arm to take Steve's, rubbing his arm along the soft silken hands that he yearned to touch. 

 

"Not everyone." 

 

The look of pure shock on Steve's face didn't surprise Bucky. Kid had an ego the size of a pea. 

 

"Don't look so shocked." 

 

"Buck-" Steve sat down, jaw still wide open as he rested an open palm over his heart. "I-" 

 

"I know. It's okay. I didn't expect some-" Bucky twisted his fingers into the air. "big 'ol love confession. I know it's one sided, but I couldn't live with it anymore." 

 

"Buck-" Steve started again. 

 

"No, Steve. Seriously, it's okay. You can hate me if you want. I'll pack my stuff and be out of here tomorrow." 

 

"No! Just- Stop! Okay? Jeez." Steve stood and held his hand out as he pressed the other one into his eye. “How did you not tell me before?” 

 

“Before what? I tried. A million times I did. Then, I went to war and.. well, you know the rest.” 

 

“Guess you have had a busy schedule.” 

 

“You can say that.” Buck stifled a laugh that forced its way up his throat. 

 

“Bucky, I don’t know what to say here.” 

 

Bucky sighed. “I hate you? Get out of my life? You disgust me?” 

 

Steve laughed wholeheartedly, “Actually, I was thinking the opposite. You’re.. my everything, Buck. Even when I had nothing… I always had you. You’ve been there for everything and you’re the only person who appreciated me before I was…” Steve gestured to his body. “This.” 

 

“So what you’re saying is..” 

 

“Well, let’s not rush into things, but I’d be willing to give it a shot.” Steve approached Bucky slowly, falling to his knees before him and lowering his forehead to Bucky's, letting out a deep slow breath. Bucky could taste the mint from Steve's toothpaste and it sent shivers down his spine. Bucky reached out with his right hand to rest it on Steve's cheek, cupping the warmth. He traced Steve's laugh lines with his thumbs and before he knew it, he lunged forward to capture Steve's lips in a kiss. 

 

Steve's wasn't at all like he'd imagined. Bucky had always thought Steve would taste like he smelled, lavender and the sticky sweet taste of his medicine. Instead, he tasted like peppermint, aftershave and leather. Steve's lips were stiff by the surprise of it, but Bucky just **_had_** to. He was compelled by his happiness, caressing what he could of Steve's face. He ran his hands through his hair as Steve melted into the kiss. He parted his lips slightly, opening up for Bucky in the most beautiful way. 

 

Steve shifted on the floor, pushing Bucky back to lay flat on the bed and crawled up the expanse of him. He broke the kiss with a chuckle. 

 

"This isn't exactly what I'd call not rushing into things." Steve straddled his hips and pressed his lips back to Bucky's, hungry for them like his lungs hunger for air. 

 

"I don't hear any complaints. Plus we've known each other for..." Bucky began to fake count the years on his fingers, mumbling random numbers. 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, ya jerk." The comedic moment renewed Steve's vigor, the Brooklyn accent renewing in the ease of it all, and he took Bucky back into an embrace. Steve ran his hands down the thin fabric of Bucky's black t-shirt before gripping the sides to rip it open. Bucky broke the kiss momentarily to laugh. 

 

"That's one way to do it. Coulda just asked me to take it off." 

 

"More fun this way." Steve devoured all that was Bucky. Bucky's heart and lungs sung, deeper into the pool of love that he had for this man within his arm's reach. His mind buzzed of the 60 years of what ifs in his brain, the possibilities of every dream he's ever had. He was kissing the one thing he'd been chasing his whole life. _Love._

 

Steve ground his hips against Bucky's and it made him hiss. Bucky replied by thrusting his hips up into Steve, inciting a delicious friction that made Steve moan. The kiss got impossibly deeper, tongues entwining and retracting through swallowed groans and wordless pants. 

 

"Want me to destroy your pants, too?" Steve huffed into Bucky's ear that sent shivers down his spine and back up again. He fumbled with the zipper, reaching between his legs and purposefully bumping the back of his left hand against the crotch of Steve's jeans, finding him hard and wanting. Steve lept off of Bucky's lap to get the bottom half of him nude, rucking up his own t-shirt. Bucky swiftly sat up and crouched on his knees on the floor, working on getting the button of Steve's pants unfastened. He thumbed the waistline and yanked them off, stopping the surprised gasp climbing up his throat. 

 

"So fuckin' beautiful, Stevie." Bucky exhaled along the underside of the throbbing cock in front of him, watching it stand proud in his hand's embrace. Bucky watched Steve's face turn red with a blush. Bucky's tongue jerked of it's own volition, a small testing swipe gathering the precome on the tip of his tongue. It was sweet and salty and tasted like silk. Steve let out a small breath, anticipation getting the best of him. He lingered, relishing the flavor and texture of something he'd imagined since he'd known about sex. He ran his fingers up the shaft, feeling the bumps and veins that are there and firms his grasp slightly. He adjusts, using his right hand so he can really feel it and feels the vibration of the moan that escapes from Steve's moan before it even comes out of his mouth. 

 

Bucky knows he’s hitting the right spots when Steve’s breath hitches and his quiet moans reach a higher octave. As Bucky thumbs Steve’s balls with his left hand, he quickly shys and pulls it away. He stops to take a deep breath. 

 

“What’s the matter?” Steve places his hand gently onto Bucky’s cheek, leaning forward to press his forehead against the brunette's. 

 

“Just wish I never woulda' lost my arm. Don’t wanna hurt you with this metal contraption.” 

 

Steve chuckles and kisses Bucky chastely. 

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Buck, it’s a part of you. It’s a part of what makes you… you, now.” Bucky’s face lights up. 

 

“You don’t mind it?” 

 

“Nope. In fact, I’ve always kinda wondered what it felt like. You know, inside me. The smooth curvature? Your skilled fingers. Pushing up inside.” Steve grasps Bucky’s fingers with his own shaking digits and glides them to his perenium, stroking himself with them. “The cool metal, you thrusting them in and out.” Steve folds down his middle finger and twirls Bucky’s index around the entrance of his ass, teasing himself on his digits. 

 

“You know, for someone not in love with me, you sure seem to know what you’re doing.” Bucky’s focus was glued on Steve’s movements, watching the first knuckle disappear and reappear, having to remind himself that this was really happening. 

 

“Never said I wasn’t.” a gasp followed as his head fell back, pulling his hand away to leave Bucky to it. 

 

Bucky dove in, taking Steve’s cock in his mouth to the root and Steve bucked his hips up; an expletive whispered under his breath. 

 

“Also, for an innocent American icon, you’ve sure got a dirty mouth.” Bucky pulled off for a moment before going back in, pushing his finger further before twisting, his gifted gag reflex a non-issue as he swallowed around the head. 

 

“Can’t help it. Fuuuuck, Barnes. You tryin' to make me cum?” 

 

“That’s the idea, yeah.” Bucky smirked as he pointed his finger up, rubbing the steel against Steve’s spongey prostate. 

 

“Oh!” Steve tried to hold his hips down, pulling both his knees up to the bed to give his guy better access to his ass, currently swallowing his entire metal finger. Bucky waited until Steve laid back to start pulling it out before replacing the digit with his tongue. Steve sat up abruptly, moaning wantonly as Barnes swiped at him, collecting as much saliva as he could to push it into the hole, slicking his way for further ministrations. He darted in quickly, languishing the taste and feel of the entrance closing around him before reintroducing two fingers, pressing urgently inside. He licked around his fingers, spreading them open as he circled with his tongue. 

 

“Jeez, Barnes. You better get inside me before I lose my patience and fuck **you** instead.” Rogers panted, hips pressed tight to the bed and his fingers turned white as they gripped the sheet in bliss. 

 

“Think you’re ready for me?” Bucky nosed Steve’s balls before licking a broad stripe, curling his fingers in. 

 

“Holy- y-y-yeah. Yeah, 'M ready.” Steve shook; his breath heightened, his pupils saucers. 

 

Bucky stood up with a soldier's ease and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. His member stood proud before him, the blue veins obvious as they curled around the head. Bucky embraced Steve, smothering him with rippling shoulders and breathless kisses. The impacts became more heated, tongues entwined and pulled back as they huffed in each other’s air, wanting nothing more than each other. Bucky began to roll his hips into Steve’s, and the feeling of the silky skin fueled him further, made it harder to hold in the tiny aborted moans Steve swallowed around his tongue. 

 

Bucky pulled himself back to observe Steve beneath him for a moment. Steve’s face was red with blush, sweat sticking to his forehead and his eyes were wide with wonderment. 

 

“What?” Steve chuckled as he turned his face, as if he suddenly felt vulnerable in his stripped state. 

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Stevie. I mean that.” 

 

“Stop it. Am not.” 

 

“Are too. And I’ve held that in long enough.” Bucky turned Steve’s chin to face him, leaving a chaste kiss upon his lips. “I love you. And I always have.” 

 

“Buck...” The word was dragged as Bucky lined himself up with Steve’s hole, teasing the cock head against the entrance and applied light friction. “I-I-“ 

 

Bucky pushed in. The tightness was nothing like he’d ever imagined, but Steve’s face is what made the last 60 years of waiting worth it. It was pained at first, not enough to cause concern. Bucky applied light rocking motions to ease himself further, and he pressed his bionic fingers to Steve’s cheek. 

 

“You okay?” He spoke softly, heart fluttering like the beat of a drum. 

 

“I’m okay. It’s just…” Steve adjusted his hips and legs, bringing them further to his chest. “Weirder than expected.” The last word was expressed with a chuckle, easing Bucky’s worry about any regrets Steve may have had about rushing into things. 

 

Bucky eased in, rocking his hips to make sure he didn’t hurt and he took it slow until he was in to the hilt. He waited a moment before capturing Steve’s bitten swollen lips in a searing kiss, their mouths gliding together and tongues dancing. 

 

“Can you-“ Steve huffed, a bright smile bringing up his laugh lines that made Bucky’s swoon. “Move or something?” 

 

“Y-yeah. I can do that.” Bucky took in a deep breath, bending to mouth along the lines of Steve’s collarbone, the light gasps Steve let out fueled Bucky further to delve deeper. Steve was so tight around him that Bucky began to see stars behind his closed eyelids. He pushed himself to stay slow, thrusting at an even pace and enjoying Steve’s tender moans as if it were the last time he would hear them. 

 

The blonde peered up, eyes open and full of wonderment and laid an open palm against Bucky’s sweat slicked cheek. Bucky suddenly realized how vulnerable Steve appeared, open and wanting, gasping every sharp breath as he ran his fingernails down the expanse of Barnes’ scarred shoulder. He placed the other hand in his lover’s hair and entwined his fingers in the damp locks, pulling Bucky’s lips to his own. 

 

Bucky trembled, thrusting erratically as he reached down to get ahold of Steve’s dense erection. He tugged with his right hand, feeling the warmth radiating into his palm as he licked into the inside of Steve’s wicked, sinful lips. 

“You-you’re really good at this!” Steve's words became a string of moans, tensing with every push in. 

“I've had a lot of time to think about it.” Bucky's sly smile appeared as he gave a particularly hard jolt, making Steve moan even louder. 

“I'm really close. A-Are you?” Steve blinked the sweat out of his eyes. “Close, I mean?” 

“You keep kissin’ me like you have been, and I will be.” 

Steve surged upward, closing his fingers over whatever strands of hair he could grab onto, sealing his lips over Bucky's. Steve moaned through the kiss as Bucky pressed on, thrusting irrationally and without rhythm. He focused on the feeling of Cap’s tongue alongside his own, the slick muscle feeding his desire to give his lover the orgasm of his life. Steve twitched in his palm and his entrance tightened, and as the first spurt of cum hit Steve's chest, Bucky reached his climax. Bucky bit back the growl that rose up his throat as he released every bitten emotion, every longing look and himself into America's Heart-throb. He collapsed immediately, relieving the pressure from his right arm. He rolled over to Steve's side reluctantly and thought about all the stupid sinful shit they could have gotten into if only Steve had fessed up. 

Bucky began to laugh, a slow rolling chuckle emanating from his core that bellowed through the empty space of his room. 

Steve finally rolled over to face him. “What's so funny?” He huffed. 

“You seemed to take to that idea pretty quickly.” Bucky exhaled slowly. 

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us before.” Steve reached to push back a stray hair from Bucky's face. 

“Since when?” 

“Remember that time? In the old apartment in Brooklyn? We got really drunk and you told me I didn’t know how to pick up girls?” Steve placed his hand over his heart, counting silently. 

“Lucidly. I thought you said you didn't-” 

“Since then.” Steve interrupted.

“You little punk.” Bucky pushed his forefinger into Steve's chest. “All this time you’ve been thinking about me and not once did you tell me?” 

“Didn’t feel like getting slugged in the face.” 

“You would have gotten something entirely different. But it still would have been your face.”

“For example?” Steve chuckled. 

“Something like this.” 

Bucky rolled over and captured Steve's mouth in a deep, but breathless kiss. They parted for air, gazing at each other before Bucky punched Steve as light as he possibly could across his cheek. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~

Lazy Saturdays were his favorite. No media to impress, no bad guys to take down, just peace and simplicity. He tugged on Steve's pajama pants to signal him he had fallen asleep and Steve stretched on the sofa. Bucky flopped beside him and ran his hands down his chest, resting his ear beside Steve's steady heartbeat. 

“Ding dong.” None other than Tony Stark swaggers in. “Wait, where’s the personal space?” Tony wags a finger between the two of them practically on top of one another. “Did I miss something?” 

Steve nonchalantly sighs and tightens his grip on Bucky. “You could say that.”

“Huh, didn’t know I owned a museum.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Here it comes”

“Couple of fossils on my couch.”

Steve chuckles. “And there it is.”


End file.
